by SaraKay Smullens, MSW, LCSW, DCSW, CGP, CFLE, BCD
Brad Englesby, who wrote the powerfully successful Mare of Easttown, is one helluva savvy writer. Viewership for the HBO 7-part limited series starring the indomitable Kate Winslet as Mare was so high that on the finale evening, HBO Max crashed for almost 30 minutes. (No plot development or spoilers will follow, only broad outlines and themes.)
I’ve seen the series twice — once for pure pleasure, and once for concentration for this discussion. The title of the drama spells out Englesby’s artistic plan. Although the series is billed as a crime drama, it is far, far more. In essence, Mare of Easttown is a character driven, splendidly written love letter, with two stars — Kate Winslet, a consummate artist who I would tune into if she were reading a now defunct telephone book, and the residents of Englesby’s rendition of Easttown, a blue-collar, homogenous, gritty, tightly knit community, which does actually exist in Chester County, Pennsylvania. Englesby has relocated Easttown to Delaware County (also known as Delco), which borders on Philly, my hometown.
Englesby grew up in Delco and writes largely from this perspective. In interviews, he speaks lovingly of the care, kindness, and devotion of those important to him, notably the women, whom the series reveals as the primary force against familial disintegration. He changed the location of Easttown to find a setting that more clearly reflected “the blue-collar vibe” and the homes and lives of those he cared for and knew. In his words, “These are people who get up every morning and go to jobs they do not necessarily love but, yeah, they do it out of a sense of duty.”
Viewers see this depiction of family duty, as well as the conditions that as social workers we know well — mental illness, substance abuse, violence, teen pregnancy, and the impact of trauma on one’s ability to trust and love, to face feelings, to take risks, and to move forward and build a fulfilling life.
Winslet plays the part of a depressed, conflicted, wary small town police detective who has failed to find the missing daughter of one of her closest friends, Dawn Baily (Enid Graham). Because of her failure, she is not given the leadership responsibility she craves in a new brutal murder case. Early on, we become aware of the difficulties and conflicts of investigating those in an intensely interwoven community, those you went to school with, sometimes have sex with, sometimes marry — some dear to you, or who used to be.
The series begins as an exploration of the events leading to this horrendous crime and then the crime itself, the murder of a young teen single mom, Erin McMenamin (Cailee Spaeny). Erin cherishes her young infant son and is treated with rejection and cruelty by her father (Patrick Murney) and disdain and disinterest by her boyfriend (Jack Mulhern).
This opening tragedy serves as a hook to draw us into a complex, multi-layered drama offered by a brilliant, committed ensemble cast. Erin’s murderer could be one of many we meet, understand, and suspect, as traumatic life events are defined. Yet, no one we meet has suffered a trauma as intense as the one that we grow to understand in Mare’s life – one that has impacted her entire family.
Divorced, but only steps from the home of her former husband, father of her two children (now in another relationship), Mare is enmeshed in her childhood home, now shared with four generations of her family, including her acerbic, Manhattan (the cocktail) loving mom, Helen (the extraordinary Jean Smart), who offers delightful comic relief to a grim and intense setting; and her openly gay daughter, Siobhan (Angourie Rice), whose loss, romantic interests, and ambivalence about leaving a community few leave (which Englesby did) are explored. Mare’s closest friend, Lori Ross (Julianne Nicholson) and she sustain each other in the progression of their lives and losses. You will experience deep respect for the work of therapist Gayle Graham (Eisa Davis), who could well be a social worker. Mare at first is mandated to consult Gayle after an egregious violation, but then continues therapy, as she slowly realizes its worth, and more importantly, her own.
The middle-age adults we meet in Mare are born in Easttown, marry there, have kids there, and will die there. Kate Winslet transforms herself, becoming one of them. She dresses as they do — the costume department visited local Wawa stores to learn about local dress. At the end of the day, Winslet threw them on the floor of her trailer, and put them on again the next day.
She speaks as they do, working incredibly hard to conquer an extremely difficult dialect — rounded vowels and shortened long-e and long-a sounds, so “water” is “wooder” and “wouldn’t and couldn’t” become “wuh-ent and cuh-ent.” And, becoming Mare, she developed deep respect and affection for her neighbors and friends, as did all cast members I have seen interviewed. The extraordinary impersonator Kate McKinnon has parodied Mare’s Delco accent on Saturday Night Live, and as I write, beloved buzz grows about Mare’s “hoagie mouth,” an urban reference to the Philly area dialect depicted in the series.
As weeks pass — yes, we want to know who the killer is! — but even if the twists and turns finally leading to the killer’s identity disappoint, it will make little difference. Winslet, central to every scene, has grown in fascination and concern. She charms; she mesmerizes.
I have met those Englesby writes about and depicts. They have responded to some of my guest columns in the Delco Times (technically the Delaware Valley Daily Times), and through the years, several have driven to Philadelphia for consultation. You know them, also. They exemplify the overlooked elephants in the room unexamined in Engleby’s portraits of Easttown. They represent a pervasive feeling in communities all over America, where citizens believe that America has forgotten their and their parents’ sacrifices for our country — including their deaths in military service, and has abandoned the well-earned fulfillment of their hopes and dreams.
Nor does the series address that parts of Delco are at a crossroads, as the area is becoming far more diverse and progressive, leading to a deep divide with the second and third generation white population, one demonstrated in altered voting patterns in the 2016 and 2020 presidential elections. I wondered if Mare’s flagrant violation would have been handled the same way if an officer of color had acted as she did. Further, a strong case can be made that the politics of Delaware County contribute in large part to the pain and anguish that the show brings to life. Delaware County does not have its own health department and had one of the highest rates of COVID-19 in Pennsylvania. Decisions concerning mask wearing led to political controversy.
Winslet, born in Great Britain, but like Mare of Irish decent, has openly shared how much she loves Mare, and that she now mourns her. From a third generation acting family that was no stranger to financial hardship, Winslet has said publicly that Mare reminds her of her dad and that she would love to continue to play this “wildly flawed, messy, broken, fragmented, difficult woman.” Ingelsby has not ruled out a second season if “a great idea” comes to him.
Oh, what a huge, diverse audience hopefully awaits his “Yes,” once again combining the genius interaction of a gifted writer, a resplendent actor, and a compelling ensemble cast. Hopefully, Ingelsby’s “great idea” can morph into addressing what has been overlooked in Season One.
More than one elephant lives and grows, waiting anxiously to be recognized, in the extraordinary “room” of Mare of Easttown. The Mare production team (Winslet is one of the producers) has made a “commitment to raising awareness about mental health issues.” This commitment urges this examination, and social workers know well that relationships are everything. A season where the glaring, complex issues that divide and threaten America’s future are confronted at Easttown’s family tables and beyond by those we now know and trust to do their best — accompanied by hoagies, beer, Mare’s vape pen, and Helen’s Manhattans — could offer artistic medicine that protects America’s future. In Season One, Brad Ingelsby gave us an Easttown seen largely through the rose-colored glasses of his youth. Now marks the perfect time to take them off.
SaraKay Smullens, MSW, LCSW, DCSW, CGP, CFLE, BCD, whose private and pro bono clinical social work practice is in Philadelphia, is a certified group psychotherapist and family life educator. She is a recipient of the Lifetime Achievement Award (2004) and the Social Worker of the Year (2018) from the Pennsylvania chapter of NASW, and the 2013 NASW Media Award for Best Article. In 2018, she was one of five graduates of the University of Pennsylvania School of Social Policy and Practice selected for the school’s inaugural Hall of Fame. SaraKay is the author of Burnout and Self-Care in Social Work.
Updated 6/18/21.